


Red Tulips

by ClearlyClarity



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Disputes, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClearlyClarity/pseuds/ClearlyClarity
Summary: After moving in together, Madoka wonders if her relationship with Homura is really real.





	Red Tulips

**Author's Note:**

> another short one-shot, this one is set in a vague point of time where it could be either canon or au, you choose! this one's a bit personal, it's based on me and my gf's relationship!

_This just isn’t working,_ I think with a sigh. I close my laptop, push it to the side and ponder on what to do next. Unable to come up with anything, I plop my head down on the beige pillowcase and stare up at the ceiling. I feel restless and uncomfortable, even though the bed is plush enough to bounce on and the blankets cover me as snugly and warmly as clouds.

 

The clock on the wall reads _6:07pm._ I bought it for our house because of our shared love for cats, and when I was in the store I looked specifically for one that had the likeness of our friend, Amy. Its ears on top of the face and the green eyes in the background made it a perfect pick, even though it was also slightly expensive because it was made by a very famous antique maker. I want only the very best for our new house, though, and I wonder if Homura-chan has seen it. _If only she would come back already_ , I think, shuffling restlessly again. It almost feels as though she’s been staying later and later after her work shift. Homura-chan has only been gone half a day and I already long for her presence, the comfort and warmth of our arms around each other after being apart.

 

We’ve been together for a long time now, I muse, but often I can still feel my heart thumping and my face flushing whenever I’m near her, like a schoolgirl with a silly crush. And it never fails to amaze me that Homura-chan feels the same way about me, even though I’m so clumsy and untalented. We lasted through school together, even through a brief moment of long-distance when we had to move to America for Mama’s work. After being with each other for so long, I know there’s only one way to go, and one day I proposed that we move in together.

 

Homura-chan had looked uneasy, her face a picture of doubt and discomfort, and I felt my heart sink. _She’s going to say no._ But what she had said instead was, “Okay, Madoka.”

  
It made me so happy at the time that I hadn’t thought about how Homura-chan might feel with such a big adjustment. I wonder if she regrets it now, and that’s why she hasn’t been nearly as close with me? After all, it’s only been a few days, and she still hasn’t slept in the same bed as mine. _6:15pm._ It’s already been half an hour after work and her workplace is only a few blocks away, and I feel almost queasy now. I trust Homura-chan, but what if she’s really been that unhappy? Would she really leave me?

The front door creaks and I sit up straight, clumsily peeling off my covers and nearly tripping over myself as I run over and jump into her, nearly crashing painfully into her jaw. “Homura-chan!” I cry.

 

She looks surprised, and catches me before I can knock her over. “M-Madoka, what’s wrong—?”

 

“Nothing!” I say, smiling in a ridiculous way that directly contradicts my words. I take her by the arm and pull her away from the door that separated us, babbling all the while: “I’m just happy you’re home! You must be so tired, I’ll make some food for you…”

 

She does seem tired, I realize, her posture weary and exhaustion in her eyes. Homura-chan works for much longer and for better pay than I do, to the point where she basically provides for the two of us alone. Thinking about it only makes me feel worse, so I push the thought to the back of my mind as I sit Homura-chan down at our dining table.

 

“I’ll make some tea for you, and boil up some delicious ramen, okay?”

 

Homura-chan squirms a little in her seat, and I blink confusedly. “Not in the mood for ramen? Okay… how about just some sushi, then?”

 

Homura-chan still has the same expression on her face. She hasn’t settled her purse down either, and it is squashed uncomfortably between her body and the table.

 

“Why don’t you put the purse down so it doesn’t get uncomfy, Homura-chan? Then I can serve us whatever food you’d like, and we can talk about your day!” My heart wells up at the thought of a content and romantic dinner with just Homura-chan and me, then going to bed together, restful and happy.

Homura-chan still seems hesitant and tired-looking, despite the prospect of our peaceful dinner. “Madoka—“

 

“Mm?” Without waiting for her to respond, I take out the container with the sushi and place it on the table. “Look! I got it from Hasaki, they have the tastiest ones ever, and I bet you’ll really like it!”  


With a flourish, I ensemble Homura-chan’s dinner in front of her and look at her expectantly. Homura-chan only deserves the best, after all, and I happily imagine cleaning her dishes, sorting out her clothes, and giving her massages on her sore shoulders as we cuddle on the sofa. At least I can be useful to her this way, making her feel more comfy after her long day at work.

 

Homura-chan stares at her meal uncomprehendingly, having not even picked up her chopsticks. “Madoka—“ she says again.

 

“What is it?” I smile, promising myself to get whatever Homura-chan wants so that she can be as free of worries as possible.

 

“I—I’m sorry, but I think I just want to take a nap. I really appreciate your kindness, though.”

 

She stands up, pushing her chair aside. I blink as if slapped, trying to swallow the sudden, burning lump in my throat.

 

“W—Wait,” I say before she can leave the room.

 

Homura-chan turns back to me, and it almost seems as though she looks vaguely annoyed.

 

“I can… I can take a nap with you, too, or sing something to you to lull you to sleep.” The idea cheers me up immensely, and I take it into stride. “It will be a really nice nap, all warm and stuff because we’re cuddling!”

 

But my joy is immediately dashed when Homura-chan shakes her head. “I think I just want to take a nap by myself right now.”

 

“O-Okay,” and my voice shakes from the effort of holding it steady, “but after your nap why don’t we—?”

 

“ _No_.” She almost snaps the word. “Not today, Madoka.”

 

And she leaves the room without another, leaving me alone and wretched next to an untouched plate of sushi.

 

***

 

One good thing about Homura-chan and I not sleeping together is that I am able to cry myself to sleep without her overhearing.

 

After waking up the next day, drained of tears, I cling onto a pillow, my only solace, as I stare at the empty space next to me. This bed is queen-sized, made for two people. I finally realize why it felt so uncomfortable in it. It is too cold, too barren without the warmth of another person.

 

Homura-chan has never been the touchy-feely type. Almost every time, I have been the one to initiate contact, to hug her and kiss her and say the sweet romantic nothings. It never truly bothered me, because I was happy to have her as my girlfriend, and that was enough. But moving in together as a real couple… part of me wished that that would mean a renewed closeness between Homura-chan and me.

 

But now I realize it only drove us further apart. I wonder if I am moving things too fast for her to keep up, and that’s why she’s so cold to me now. She’s always been somewhat of a cold person, but not with me. That she is showing her cold side to me too now… I choke back a sob and tighten my grip on the pillowcase.

 

 _2:00pm,_ says Amy. I have slept for a long time—nearly twelve hours. I’m not generally a heavy sleeper, and I feel fatigue settling in my entire body. I don’t feel like getting up, so like yesterday, I stare up at the ceiling.

 

I hear a door open, but I don’t move. It is not until I feel Homura-chan’s long dark hair sweeping over my face do I finally blink and shift my gaze.

 

“Can you move over a little?” she says.

 

I do, my mind not quite catching up to the appearance of Homura-chan in my room. “I—I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until six,” I say.

 

“I cancelled today,” she says, squeezing in under the blankets. Her body heat, along with the covers, makes me feel almost unbearably warm. She brings one arm over my shoulder, her hand resting on my neck, and holds me closer. Her chin holds my head in place, her other hand brushing away stray strands of my hair.

 

I’m not used to this. Homura-chan’s body pressed against mine, her lips brushing my forehead, her fingers against my skin. It has always been my body against hers, my lips against her forehead, my fingers against her skin. And for a moment I can hardly breathe, unable to exhale in Homura-chan’s overwhelming presence.

 

Then I realize what she’s doing and I push her away.

 

Homura-chan’s eyes widen with hurt. “Please,” she says. “I need you.”

 

“But only when it’s convenient for you,” I say. Already angry tears are springing to my eyes. I seem to have a never-ending supply of them.

 

“I don’t understand.” She looks so taken aback and wounded that my anger almost drains away. Almost, but not quite.

 

I sit up, the blankets flung off from my sudden movement. “Homura-chan, do you really love me?”

 

“What?” she sounds genuinely bewildered, sitting up as well.

 

“You heard me,” I say. “Do you actually care about me?”

 

“Of course I do! Madoka, why would you think otherwise?”

 

“Because it doesn’t seem like you do,” I say, my voice becoming unsteady, “with the way you never want to sleep in the same bed or talk to me about your day or spend time with me at all. I just don’t feel like—like you _care_ about me. Even before,” I say, tears freely rolling down my face now, “It felt like it was just me! So is this moving-in-together thing all a mistake?”

 

“Why would you say that?” I can hear shakiness in Homura-chan’s voice and I know I struck her, and I feel guilty and satisfied and relieved and so many other things at once.

 

“Even when I suggested it, you didn’t seem like you wanted to, didn’t you?”

 

“That’s not true, Madoka, it was just a big adjustment to consider—“

 

“I’m sorry!” I burst out, clutching my hands to my face as if I can tear it apart. “I’m sorry I’m such a useless burden to you! I c-can’t do anything for us, I have always gone through life like this depending on others while doing nothing for them, it’s no wonder you don’t want me around, I wish I wasn’t like this, I—I—I—“

 

Homura-chan’s arms are around me again, and with a wail I press my face into her chest. She rocks me back and forth gently, her hand against my back holding me steady. “Shh, shh,” she murmurs. “Shhh.” She strokes my hair, disheveled as it is, but it has the same calming effect. We stay like this for a while, my loud sobs gradually descending into quiet whimpers.

 

I let out a hiccup as I pull away from her reluctantly. Homura-chan takes my hand into both of hers and looks at it as she says, “Madoka, I love you.” She strokes it softly. “I always have, but I’ve never been good at expressing it, and I’m sorry that I have hurt you that way.” She takes each finger and runs her thumb over them. “I felt hesitant about moving in together because it’s a situation that takes a while to get used to, especially with a new workplace, a new home, a new us…” She threads her fingers with mine, pressing our palms together. “It drains me sometimes, and I know you have only the best intentions, but I don’t have the energy to always be with you right now. Once we settle in for a few weeks, I promise…” Her face is moving closer and closer—“I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

  
She kisses me, and I feel myself, my anger, and my pain melting away.

 

We break apart only after we need to take a breath. After a while, Homura-chan says, “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

 

“What do you mean?” I say, my voice still raspy.

 

“That’s part of the reason too,” she says. “Why I’m not as affectionate as you are… I didn’t want to make you reciprocate when I didn’t deserve it… but I’m selfish, and I came to you today when I hurt you only the day before, just because I couldn’t stand being so apart from you…”

 

“That’s not true,” I say fiercely. “You’re not selfish, Homura-chan, you work really hard and you get tired and it’s natural that you’d want to relax a little after that…”

 

“But only when it’s convenient for me,” Homura-chan shoots back, echoing me earlier. “I’m too selfish to think about the fact that you have needs as well, even though I’ve always wanted to make you happy.”

 

“My needs aren’t important,” I say, truly meaning every word. “It’s more important for you to be taken care of because you’re making both of our incomes, while I’m just being useless at home, like how I’m useless at everything else as always—“

 

Homura-chan slaps me.

 

“Don’t call yourself useless,” she says. “Ever.”

 

Then she holds me tightly again and cries.

 

I hug her back this time, clutching her soft hair. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

 

Homura-chan just shakes her head and brings me closer. It feels so right, the warmth of her breath and the tangled limbs, and I know that I won’t want to move for a long while. With one hand, so I don’t shift my other from Homura-chan, I drape the blankets over both of us.

 

I almost drift off to sleep, but Homura-chan speaks, her voice a hazy murmur. “Madoka?’

 

“Homura-chan?”

 

“I love you.”

 

My mouth curves into a smile. “I love you too.”

 

“I promise that I’ll make it up to you,” she says, sleepily. “I’ve thought of… stuff…”

 

“I can’t wait.” I kiss her forehead. We hold each other as drowsiness overcomes us both.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! remember, leave a kudos if you liked and a comment saying what you enjoyed or want me to improve on! :3  
> (also GOD i hate coming up with titles)


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